


Apples And Oranges

by Berty



Category: due South
Genre: Community: ds_aprilfools, Humor, M/M, Magic Realism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-13
Updated: 2007-04-13
Packaged: 2017-10-12 10:40:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/124024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Berty/pseuds/Berty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser has skills. Ray just has to figure a way to use them to his benefit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apples And Oranges

"Orange."

"Yep. What about this?"

"Pear."

"Correct again, my friend. You're good! And this?"

"Kiwi. You know, Ray, I don't think this could be claimed to be terribly conclusive as a piece of evidence." Fraser tipped his head back and peered at Ray from beneath his makeshift blindfold – in actuality, Ray's discarded sweatshirt.

"No peeking," Ray snapped, pulling the fabric lower on Fraser's face. "And I'm not hoping for publication in next month's Scientific American, _Benton_. I'm just giving you the opportunity to stun me with your super-Mountie skills."

"Guessing jellybean flavours?"

"Yep."

"I see. So this is for my benefit?"

"Absolutely. Now open up." Ray popped another jellybean into Fraser's obedient mouth.

The Mountie chewed thoughtfully. "I suspect the manufacturer claims that this is 'buttered popcorn' flavour, and yet I doubt that any of these candies has ever seen a natural ingredient."

Fraser listened to the packet crackle and visualised Ray peering to read the text in the inadequate lighting of his apartment, and the way his nose screwed up when he squinted in an expression that Fraser always found to be quite delightful.

"Huh!"

"I'm correct."

"Yeah. Amazing what they can do with additives these days."

Dief whined from the floor and Fraser was mildly surprised when Ray replied.

"You wanna play too? Okay, what's this?"

Fraser heard the chomp of Dief's jaw and opened his mouth to protest only to find a jellybean deposited onto his tongue.

"Apple," Fraser muttered.

"Dief?"

"He says donut."

"Fraser wins."

"I really don't see how this game relates to my comment on your having any insight into flavour when your palette is corrupted by your 'all pizza' diet," Fraser said reproachfully; just enough disapproval in his voice that it would get a rise out of Ray – not enough that it would actually cause him to discontinue the game.

"Hardy ha ha, Fraser. Open."

"Cherry."

Dief made a slurping noise.

"Dief says donut."

"Well you're _both_ wrong. It's _wild_ cherry,"  
Ray announced smugly.

"The people who developed these confections are clearly delusional," Fraser sniffed.

"Okay, let's try this. Keep 'em covered."

Fraser frowned as he heard Ray get up, walk into the kitchen and open the refrigerator. There were some ominous rustlings and few quiet chinks, and then Ray was returning. Fraser felt a whisper of moving air as Ray crouched down in front of him again.

"'Kay, open."

Fraser obediently parted his lips and was surprised to find Ray's fingertip in his mouth. After a second's hesitation he pulled the cool foodstuff off Ray's warm skin.

"Peanut butter."

"And?"

"Smooth."

"Dief?"

Dief wuffled.

"He says donut."

"And this?"

Again Ray's finger touched against Fraser's lips and Fraser chased the flavour of skin beneath the taste he was supposed to be sampling.

"Beer. Coors."

"Huh! Clever!" Ray said, sounding surprised.

"Not really," Fraser admitted. "I saw the bottles in your refrigerator earlier."

"Oh."

Dief barked.

"Diefenbaker, they obviously cannot _all_ be donut. The last one was a liquid, for example."

Wuff.

"Oh, I see."

"What's the furface say?"

"He's not _guessing_ donut. He says he _wants_ a donut," Fraser relayed, his voice tinged with disgust.

"Patience, Grasshopper," Ray told the wolf. "One more. Dief, you don't get a taste of this one. It's just for Fraser."

Fraser wondered what horror Ray could possibly be referring to, seeing as he resolutely shared every other meal with the wolf, no matter how nutritionally disastrous.

Cautiously Fraser opened his mouth slightly. There was a pause, the sound of Ray shifting position, then a sweet, soft, wet pressure against his lips. The scent of Ray, already a source of delicious torment to Fraser due to the garment wrapped around his eyes, became overwhelming as the roughness of Ray's cheek caught on Fraser's skin.

Ray's mouth was tentative and gentle, moving over Fraser's with exquisite delicacy. Fraser was caught between the desire to let Ray kiss him like this until he died of it, or to grab him, hold him down and kiss him as roughly as Ray's kisses were soft. It was a dilemma solved by Ray moving back and going quiet.

"Ray?" Fraser asked, having to force his voice through the constriction in his chest that made him sound gravelly.

Ray said nothing and Fraser began to imagine his wide-eyed, scared face staring at him.

"Ray, I'm not entirely certain what that last one was," he offered carefully. "Maybe if you gave me a little more, I could…"

Ray's hands were on his face this time, thumbs idly rubbing his cheekbones underneath the blindfold. He angled Fraser's head to the right and fitted their mouths together again, deeper this time, more certain. Fraser parted his lips and felt Ray's pleased huff when he touched his tongue against Fraser's. Still Ray took it slowly, methodically tasting and learning, and driving Fraser demented in the process.

When Ray pulled back this time, Fraser slowly lifted his hands to the back of his head and the knotted sleeves of Ray's sweatshirt. He untied the fabric and pulled it away from his face.

Ray was sat on the coffee table, his face flushed and his lips shiny. He looked terrified but pleased.

"I give up," Fraser murmured. "You'll have to tell me what flavour that was."

Ray smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. "What flavour did you want it to be?"

And Ray had been brave enough to get this far – further than Fraser had ever imagined they would get, so he couldn't blame him for asking for a similar investment from himself. Fraser thought about the kiss, thought about the man who sat waiting for him to speak, as still as he'd ever seen him, and realised that this had been coming for a long time and although startling, it was in no way unwelcome or unreciprocated.

"I think it's 'I love you'," Fraser said bravely. "Is that right?"

Ray's happy face and luminous grin would have told him that he was correct without the soft, "Yeah."

"Good," Fraser nodded, taking Ray's hand and stretching out, back onto the couch, pulling the unresisting Ray with him. "That's my favourite."

Fin


End file.
